


Not from choice ...

by NamparaMyHome (Cormelas)



Series: Betwixt [6]
Category: Poldark (TV 2015)
Genre: (1x03), Canon Dialogue, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 21:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4409228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cormelas/pseuds/NamparaMyHome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time since his return, being in Elizabeth’s presence did not turn his thoughts to those pre-war days with her.  Ross was thinking of what makes for good marriage partners, as Elizabeth and Francis were apparently not so suited for one another.  Ross’s eyes were seeing Elizabeth, but his mind was envisioning Demelza.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not from choice ...

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by the estate of Winston Graham, various publishers including but not limited to Pan Macmillan and the BBC.
> 
> Notes: The story occurs between the scenes of the Poldark 2015 episodes as aired on the PBS US broadcasts, which are disappointingly shorter than the BBC episodes. I have not read the books, nor do I know what happens in future episodes when the B/TWS are written. My apologies for inaccuracies based on later canon.

Elizabeth was once again the cause of Ross’s brooding. Having her “happen” to him again and again, Demelza had learned this mood. It could inspire him, as it had done when she told him she was with child. “Do I have ‘halfwit’ branded across my forehead?” he had asked Demelza after allowing Elizabeth to play with his emotions, raw from the duel and its aftermath. “No,” she answered in puzzlement.

This time, Elizabeth had “dropped by” (a likely story) for what true reason Ross was not interested. He was in the field clearing grass, using his muscles that were still tingling from Demelza’s touches the night before. He threw on a shirt and waist coat and met her in the sparse sitting room. Elizabeth coquettishly divulged to him the difficulties of her marriage, likely hoping for a sympathetic ear. He had none for her as his ears were now tuned to the gasps, moans and sing-songy yelps of Demelza, having shared his bed with her for the first time only hours before this “visit.” For the first time since his return, being in Elizabeth’s presence did not turn his thoughts to those pre-war days with her. Ross was thinking of what makes for good marriage partners, as Elizabeth and Francis were apparently not so suited for one another. Ross’s eyes were seeing Elizabeth, but his mind was envisioning Demelza.

At that very moment, Demelza strode into the room, not knowing of the visitor. She stopped when she realized the dynamic into which she had stumbled. She feebly curtseyed, and offered Elizabeth the cornflowers she had picked. Whether intentional or not, Elizabeth pained Demelza with her reply, and Ross felt it, too. Ross cast his eyes away from Elizabeth and she saw what she perceived to be shame. “I must go,” Elizabeth declared, likely realizing how inappropriate her comment was to a gentleman, even if that gentleman was Ross and his maid was in his bed. “I’ll see you out,” Ross blurted as he shot to standing and strode after Elizabeth.

Ross returned to find that Demelza had gone, the cornflowers spilled on the table. He hadn’t the words necessary to soothe her from this sting. He needed to think. What was he to do? How were they to now be? He needed her with him, clearly, but he could not have others speak ill of her. That would cause her pain and he could not bear that.

Demelza was now the brooding one.   She had pleased her master, which is all she wanted. But things would be horrible for him if she stayed to continue in his service. And she could not be in his service without giving herself completely to him. If he would not have her, she would die.   And the ugly rumors would continue with more than a kernel of truth now.

She waded out into the water to feel the cold sea drain the fire that filled her blood. The cold gave her a chill and another thought turned her blood to ice. Her father. He was coming back for her. Today. She was to be led away from the temptation of living with Ross. She could not deny there had been temptation, but she told him there had been no sin. Now there was. She and Ross had lain together without being husband and wife, a sin of the flesh, although not uncommon.

Garrick pranced playfully in the shallows and beckoned for Demelza to return from her knee-deep wading. She turned to him and knew he would be by her side even if she could not be by her master’s side. She decided to wait until after tea. She could at least leave Ross a repast on her final day as his kitchen maid

She had become so much more than a kitchen maid. She knew more, did more, accomplished more than Jud and Prudie combined. She was anything Ross needed her to be. And oh, how she wished she could keep her new role as his bed partner. But the day was racing by and her father would be on the moor soon. She did not want him making his way as far as the house. Demelza left the tray with the afternoon tea, some cakes Ross had said he particularly enjoyed, a piece of cheese and a small crust of bread. She quietly donned her cloak, drew up her simple belongings in a satchel and slid out the kitchen door. Ross called for her, popped his head into the kitchen and sighed when he realized she was not there. He had been hoping to have her take tea with him as they often did.

Ross took the tray to the library. He thought best in the library. What to do, what to say, how to take this impossible situation and make it work. He tore into a cake as he was quite hungry from his labors of the day, and of the previous night. The cake melted in his mouth. “I will starve if she were to leave,” Ross thought. They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, which is likely why Demelza worked so hard to cook things he liked. Nevertheless, Ross’s heart had been won by more than just cakes, albeit the cakes were an added bonus.

And would he starve without her, without servants? He had survived in the forests of Virginia without them. He could make himself tea, but cakes were a bit beyond his experience. He probably could figure out how to make bread, but the women of the household had generally taken on such endeavors. Demelza gladly took up such tasks, and then some. She was, to Ross, _the_ woman of the household.

He needed to talk to Demelza. That is how this would be resolved. He had come to rely on hashing things out for himself with her. While he mused and pondered and talked things through out loud, she sat at his feet at the hearth and provided the returns to his volleys.   She did know a thing or two about mining.

He asked Prudie and Jud if they had seen her, and they indicated she was off with Garrick ignoring her chores. “ _It won’t work_ ,” thought Ross. He knew what they were trying to do. Even so, Ross himself was unaware how things were about to change in the household as far as to matters regarding Jud and Prudie. Ross put on his coat and hat and went to retrieve his horse. Demelza and Garrick would be on the moors, he just knew it.

When he caught up to her, she was over a half hour’s ride from the house. Demelza was not just out for a walk. She was leaving Nampara. She was leaving him. Ross’s heart dropped. He had thought of no answers, but needed one, fast.

“I engaged you for two years. What do you mean by running away?” He interrogated her as she jumped in her skin, not hearing him ride up.

“Sir, I …” Demelza gasped. She knew that the two years had since passed, but as far as she was concerned, she would stay with him forever. If only she hadn’t panicked at the thought of leaving him. She had overstepped the boundaries with her master. She could not dare hope to compete for his affections, even with a married woman with whom Ross stood no chance of reclaiming. Little did Demelza know, Ross had turned a corner over Elizabeth.

“Haven’t you been well treated? Aren’t you grown used to the house, and your tasks,” he sounded like a disappointed parent, “and my moods?’ His line of questioning shifted to the intimate.

“Yes, sir, …”

“Do you not give me what I want before I even ask?” Ross hesitated at this, afraid of what Demelza would think. Had she meant to give herself to him before he asked? Had his kiss been him asking without the words being spoken? It was his fault that things were never going to be the same.

“Yes, sir, but I, … but I thought that after what `appened…” Demelza sputtered.

“You thought that you could no longer be my servant.” Ross knew her thoughts as he was thinking them, too.

“Not from choice, sir.” Demelza stood like a Greecian statue – a vision of femininity perfected. Ross knew the choice was not his. He had to offer her a choice. He had all of the power in their relationship. He fed her, clothed her, kept her warm and dry. She was beholden to him, by choice and by necessity. He could not use that to his advantage. Not ever.

Ross now knew what to do.

 


End file.
